


Otters May Have Shifted

by chess_ka



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Fluff, Gen, ottery kisses, there's a live in the flight deck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-25
Updated: 2012-05-25
Packaged: 2017-11-06 00:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chess_ka/pseuds/chess_ka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Cabin Pressure fic exchange. </p><p>An actual otter (or two or three) gets loose in GERTI whilst in flight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Otters May Have Shifted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [a1cmustangpilot](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=a1cmustangpilot).



“Why are people looking round GERTI?” Martin frowned out of the grimy portacabin window, feeling a familiar protectiveness over the plane. A small group of people were walking around her with clipboards, looking in the cabin and the hold. The figure of Carolyn stood nearby, hands on her hips in a clear stance of disapproval.

Douglas shrugged, not looking up from his paper. “Archaeologists? Perhaps they're considering putting her in a museum.”

Martin rolled his eyes but couldn't help smirking a little at that. “We should sell her as a collector's item: the one functioning Lockheed McDonnell 312.”

“I think 'functional' is pushing it a little, don't you?”

Martin opened his mouth to reply, feeling that GERTI deserved at least _some_ defending, when the portacabin door banged open to emit Carolyn, Arthur, and a strong gust of autumn wind. Arthur was looking even more jubilant than usual, which was a frankly alarming state of affairs. 

“Chaps! Chaps! Guess what?”

Douglas slammed the newspaper down in feigned surprise. “You saw two magpies this morning.”

“No! Though that would have been _great!_ No, guess what the trip is today?!”

“Arthur,” Carolyn warned, her voice a mixture of impatience and weariness, “shut up and make coffee.”

“Oh, right-o!”

With Arthur bustling around the kitchenette, humming a song that may, in a previous life, have been “Beyond the Sea”, Martin turned to Carolyn. “So what _is_ today's trip? I know we're going to Berlin, but what are we taking?”

“We are taking some animals to Berlin zoo,” Carolyn answered, pulling a file out of her handbag and flipping through it. “People from the zoo here were checking that GERTI was safe for them.”

“Not just _animals_ , Mum!” cried Arthur, spilling the milk in his excitement. “Chaps, we're taking _otters! Loads_ of them!”

“I don't think twenty-five counts as 'loads',” Carolyn muttered, rolling her eyes as she fixed her reading glasses to her nose.

“Well no, _obviously_ it would be _brilliant_ to have a hundred otters, but twenty-five is still quite brilliant!” 

“Otters,” said Martin doubtfully. “Don't they have otters in Germany?”

“Oh, I'm sure they do,” Douglas said, “but perhaps we have better otters in Britain.”

“They probably want otters from Ottery St. Mary!” Arthur exclaimed, slamming down the coffee mugs and slopping the hot liquid over the table. “I bet they're the best, since they ate a saint!”

“What?” Carolyn frowned, glancing up.

“You know, St Mary, when she got eaten by otters.”

Carolyn turned to Douglas. “Is this like the time you told him the city of Douglas was named after you?”

Douglas affected a look of hurt innocence. “But Carolyn, Douglas _is_ named after me. I single-handedly saved them from the floods of-”

“Yes, yes, that's quite enough of that,” she snapped. “Come on, chop chop, you're meant to be taking off in twenty minutes.”

As they trooped across the tarmac to GERTI's stand, Douglas elbowed Martin's shoulder. “Better hope they're all caged up properly, captain. Wouldn't want one to get into the flight deck, would we?”

“Shut up, Douglas.”

“That would be _brilliant!_ It could be like our mascot!”

“Shut up, Arthur.”

As they neared GERTI, one of the zoo personnel came down the steps, clipboard in hand. “It all looks fine, Ms Knapp-Shappey,” she said. “They're all secured and ready to go. The Berlin zoo guys should be waiting for you when you arrive to transport them quickly.”

Carolyn nodded curtly. “Thank you. Is that all?”

“That's it,” the woman agreed. “Safe trip.”

**

They were seventy minutes into the two hour flight when it happened. 

“A Hundred Bears of Solitude,” Douglas said.

“Mm, good one,” agreed Martin. “Er... King Solomon's Fines.”

“Not bad. Bleak Mouse.”

“ _Chaps!_ ” Arthur hollered. “Chaps, chaps, you'll _never_ guess!” The flight deck door crashed open and Arthur bounded in. Both pilots turned to stare at him.

“What on _earth_ are you shouting about?” asked Martin, frowning.

“You will _never_ guess!” he repeated.

“Arthur, we are right here, you don't need to shout.”

“Oh, right. Sorry Skip, but it is _really_ exciting!”

“Have you blown up the microwave again?” Douglas asked.

“No, no, it's – look!”

The two pilots turned. Peering from behind Arthur's ankles, nose twitching and eyes bright, was an otter. 

“Oh dear,” Douglas remarked. “They weren't very _effectively_ locked in the hold, were they?”

“We need to catch it,” said Martin worriedly. “Before it does some damage.”

“Exactly how much damage do you think one otter could-” Douglas began, but was cut off as the otter, with surprising speed, dived under his chair. 

Martin yelped and threw himself backwards, stumbling out of his seat. “Catch it!” he exclaimed to Douglas.

“How?”

“Well, _look_ for it at least!”

With a long-suffering sigh, Douglas heaved himself from his chair and knelt down to look for the errant water mammal. The space under the flight deck was empty.

“It's gone,” he said, frowning.

“ _Gone_?” Martin shrieked. “How can it be _gone_?!”

“By no longer being there.”

“We have to find it!”

Arthur threw himself down onto the floor. “Here, otter, otter, otter,” he cooed in a baby tone. “Come out, ickle otter!”

“That won't work,” Martin muttered. “Maybe we should, I don't know, put some food down, tempt it out?”

“Do we have raw fish on board?” Douglas drawled, looking supremely unconcerned by the situation as he switched autopilot on. “And where do you plan to _put_ said otter when you masterfully trap it?”

“Somewhere safe!”

Martin was saved from Douglas' condescending reply by a shout from Arthur, who had headed back to the galley to find something that would serve as otter bait. The two pilots headed to the door to see what the fuss was about.

Standing on the counter top, half a sandwich in its mouth, was another otter, this one rather darker than the first. It regarded them with interest. Arthur stepped towards it.

“Move slowly,” Douglas cautioned. “Maybe if we all close in on it, slowly and quietly, we can get it.”

The three men, hands stretched out, stepped slowly towards the otter, closing a semi-circle around the counter top. The otter, far from looking concerned, simply watched them all with bright curiosity. At the last moment, Arthur leapt forward with a cry of, “Gotcha!” The otter, quick as a flash, leapt from the counter to on top of the cupboard where it chittered to itself.

“Sorry,” Arthur exclaimed. “I really thought we had it!”

“Sneaky buggers, aren't they?” Douglas mused. “I wonder where the one in the flight deck went.”

“Oh God,” Martin gasped, paling. “The flight deck!” He spun around, arms pin-wheeling, and charged back through. Douglas followed at a more sedate place, leaving Arthur trying to tempt the second otter down from the cupboard. 

Martin quickly checked the control panel and, seeing that everything was normal, threw himself to the floor to look for their lost otter. “It's not here!” he cried wildly. “Where is it?”

“Who knows,” Douglas replied, leaning casually against the door frame. “Unless it parachuted through the window, I cannot imagine how an otter could escape the plane. It doesn't appear to be doing any _harm_ , though.”

“Douglas! There is a _wild animal_ loose on the plane! We can't just _ignore_ it!”

“We _could_ , you know. We're probably more likely to crash by running after otters and _not flying the plane_ than by _ignoring the otters_ that are not, in fact, causing any problems.”

Martin ran his fingers through his curls, leaving them sticking up wildly. “We can't have wild animals roaming the plane, Douglas! It's a serious air safety concern!”

“Martin,” Douglas began in exasperation, as the captain began to search under the seats again. “Martin, honestly, stop being ridiculous.”

“Chaps, there's another!” Arthur's delighted voice floated out to them. “He's in the cabin asleep!”

“Leave him, Arthur,” Douglas called over his shoulder. “He's the only being that's ever been able to sleep properly on GERTI, bless her.”

“Have you found the first one, Skip?” Arthur appeared at Douglas' side.

“No, he has not. It appears we have to deal with the Mystery of the Vanishing Otter.”

“ _Brilliant._ It's like Houdini!”

“If Houdini had ever escaped from a jet at thirty-four thousand feet, yes.”

Ignoring them, Martin got to his feet and scrubbed his hands through his hair again. Coupled with his red face, he looked positively manic. Then he froze: the door of the flight deck locker was slightly open. “Ah hah,” he breathed.

“Found it?” Douglas drawled, pretending to examine his nails. 

“It must be in the locker – there's nowhere else.”

Slowly, carefully, Martin eased the locker door open. The metal squeaked in protest, but soon it was fully open. Martin's eyes widened.

“ _Oh,_ ” he breathed.

Intrigued, Douglas and Arthur moved to look over his shoulder. There, curled on an old coat that had fallen to the floor, was their missing otter. Nestled in beside her were three tiny, blind, whimpering pups. Their coats were damp, and their mother was cleaning them carefully. The three men stared in silence. The mother otter raised her head and gazed at them with a hint of pride in her expression.

“Wow,” Arthur gasped softly. “ _Babies_.”

“That's amazing,” Martin murmured, crouching down carefully. “Look how tiny they are.”

“She must have sneaked away to find somewhere to give birth,” said Douglas, shaking his head. “Clever girl.” The mother cocked her head, as though to acknowledge the compliment. 

“Can we touch them, do you think?” Arthur asked, already stretching his hand out. Martin grasped his wrist.

“Don't. Leave them be.” 

Together, they stood gazing at the otter and her pups. The mother licked and nuzzled them with single-minded devotion as they squeaked and squirmed weakly, trying to find somewhere to suckle. Once they were all feeding hungrily, the mother put her head down on the coat and heaved a contented sigh, her eyes drifting shut. 

The sound of the sat-com buzzing to life snapped the three from their reverie. Douglas and Martin hurried to their seats as Arthur carefully shut the door of the flight locker, leaving a small gap. 

The flight deck was strangely quiet for the next few minutes. A small noise alerted them to a new intruder: the second otter had crept into the flight deck, nosing its way past the pilots, and then slipped through the gap into the locker. A small chittering noise followed before the comfortable silence descended again.

“Must be daddy otter,” Martin remarked.

“Mm,” Douglas agreed. “He leant back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “Here's one: My Family and Other Otters.”

Martin grinned.


End file.
